


Catch

by oooknuk



Series: Held [2]
Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oooknuk/pseuds/oooknuk
Summary: Getting out is only the first step





	Catch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters you recognise will belong to Alliance. No infringement of copyright intended. Not for profit. 
> 
> Warnings: language, discussion and descriptions of psychological torture 
> 
> Note: My thanks to Nancy, Alex and Linda G for assistance with this. This is a sequel to 'Hold'. The sequel to this is 'Release'.

What I want to do when we find Ben is hold his hand and go with him to the hospital and never let him out of my sight again. That's what would happen if this was TV. What actually happens is that with there just being me and Maggie to tell about twenty uniformed cops, several detectives and a majorly pissed off Lieutenant Welsh what the hell happened when we found my lover and her brother after him being missing for three and a half months, I have to watch Ben being taken away in an ambulance and then try and get things organized. Maggie directs the uniforms, I get Welsh duty. He's bouncing between shock at being told our missing Mountie has been found, and disbelief that said Mountie has apparently been held prisoner all this time by one of his best detectives. He decides to hide behind being mad.

"Would you care to tell me, Detective, how it is that you came to be searching Detective Arnulfson's house, completely illegally I might add, in the middle of the night?"

"It was Dief, sir." I've seen that expression on Welsh's face more than a few times in my long acquaintance with Ben. It's a mix of 'what the fuck?' and 'you gotta to be kidding!' with a little 'this is going to be something I don't want to hear, isn't it?' I try again. "Don asked me to feed his cat while he was away - Dief started acting funny and I investigated. I suspected a crime may have been committed."  Totally deadpan. Welsh doesn't believe me, not that I thought I would.

"You brought the wolf to a house with a cat?"

"He wouldn't stay in the car." Maggie'd better back me up, but at least she's not compulsively honest like her brother.

Welsh give me a long, hard stare. "I'm not gonna want to know the real reason you were searching Don's house, am I?"

"Unlikely, sir."

He sighs. "All right, detective. Just keep Ms Mackenzie quiet and I don't want to hear anything about how you were conducting a search without a warrant or probable cause in your partner's house. How's Fraser?"

"I don't know, Lieu. He's alive, looks like shit. Did they pick up Don yet?"

"The Detroit police have sent people to Don's mother's house - they'll let me know. You, wait here," he tells me while he goes over to Peter Morrow, the detective who's taken charge of things. He's talking to him and obviously ordering a search. Maggie comes back with him.

"Lieutenant, Ray and I would really like to go to the hospital to see my brother - can we fill you in as we go?"

He glares at her, but then nods. "Okay. Kowalski - where's your car?"

"Down the block, Lieu."

"Give the keys to one of the uniforms. What about Dief?"

The hospital will never allow him in. "Can someone take him back to my place?"

"No, I got a better idea. We'll drop him at my house on the way - I got a feeling you won't be home much in the next 24 hours."

Behind all the bluster, Welsh cares, and this is just one more thing to be grateful  to him for. We all pile into his car and I tell Dief to behave and that I'll be bringing Ben home to him soon. He seems to understand and is happy enough to stay at the house. Then Welsh drives us to the hospital. We're only about 45 minutes behind Ben and he's still being examined when we get to Reception. I have to fill out some forms as his next of kin, and then we wait. While we do, Maggie tells Welsh what we found. Actually, there's not a lot more to add. Until the search of Don's house is finished, and he's been interviewed, we won't know why my partner and best friend, decided to kidnap and hold my lover in a dirty dim cell in the basement of his house for nearly four months. And until Ben is awake, we can't ask him what's happened. Welsh hints to Maggie that her involvement in the evening probably didn't extend past coming with me to feed the cat, did it, Ms Mackenzie?

Two hours later, a doctor finds us. "Ray Kowalski?" she asks, looking at his file.

"That's me. How's Ben?"

"In a word - sick. Now, hang on," she says as I start to speak. "I need some information from you. Has the patient got a history of drug abuse at all?"

Welsh grunts in disgust, and I have to override Maggie who's ready to jump in. "No way. Uh uh. He doesn't drink, won't take aspirin - coffee's the strongest thing I've ever seen him touch and I've known him five years."

"So the track marks on his arm ...?"

"Must've been put there by the man who kidnapped him," I say as firmly as I can. The doctor's not an idiot, so she nods.

"Tell me what you know about the conditions in which you found him."

"He was chained up with a metal collar around his neck, lying on a mat in a room about eight feet square. I don't know how long he was there, but he's been missing for three and a half months."

The doctor nods again. "All right. We're getting his blood analyzed but he's been drugged with opiates, probably heroin, and he is approximately 36 to 48 hours into withdrawal, judging by his symptoms. Apart from that, he's dehydrated, severely underweight and in very poor condition. His muscles are wasted from underuse. From the look of him, I think he may have been confined as you describe for the entire period he was missing - the pressure marks on his neck are quite long-standing."

Maggie and me look at each other - I can see she feels as sick as I do. "Um, will he be OK?" I ask.

"Well, I can't see why not - physically. We can bring him off the the heroin with clonidine and other symptomatic relief - it needn't be hell for him. His condition isn't life threatening so long as he doesn't push himself too far too fast, and it will just take time for him to regain his fitness and health. Frankly, the thing that will take longest is the psychological damage. What you describe are very severe, almost intolerable conditions. I would be amazed if he doesn't suffer long term harm from this."

"He won't be alone," Maggie says fiercely.

The doctor smiles. "That's good. He'll need his friends and his family."

"Can we see him?" I ask.

"In a while. He's being moved to a room and we have him on an IV, and I've ordered some medication which will reduce his nausea and cramps. But he will probably be asleep for several hours. Suggesting you go home and come back later will be a waste of time, won't it?"

"Yeah, you got that right," I tell her, and she gives me a tired smile. She's seen it all before.

"OK. Wait here, and a nurse will tell you when you can see him. I'll talk to you later."

She leaves us alone then. "Maggie," I say, "there's no point us both hanging around. We should work this in shifts. Why don't you go get Dief and take him home, get some sleep and I call you there as soon as I've seen Ben?"

I expect her to argue, but she's sensible and agrees. Welsh has to go and process the fall out from Ben's discovery - he can drop Maggie and Dief back to my apartment on the way to the station. They get up and Maggie kisses my cheek. To my surprise, Welsh holds out his hand. As I shake it, he says, "Ray, I don't know how, or why, but you and Maggie have done good work. I'm glad Big Red is back. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry as hell that it's Don."

As they leave, it hits me what he's said. Up to now, I've been thinking only about Ben and how he'll get through this. But it was my partner who's done this - I was worrying about going behind his back to search his house, and all this time he had Ben chained up in his own shit, pushing drugs in his body, starving him. And all this time, the bastard was comforting me, 'helping' me look for Ben, crying crocodile tears .... A rush of anger hits me, and if I weren't in a public waiting room, I'd punch the wall. I try to get a grip. Ben's alive. I thought he was dead, and he's not. That's the important thing.

It takes two more hours before I am allowed to see Ben. Our insurance thankfully allows him a private room, but I'd pay for one if it didn't - no way do I want him stuck with other people, staring at him. In the low light, he still looks like shit, but at least he doesn't smell like it any more - he's been given a sponge bath and looks cleaner. He's very pale, eyes shrunk in their sockets, his skin a nasty gray color. They've put a drip in one skinny arm. His nails are long and ragged looking, and with his beard and the long hair and the sores, he looks like Robinson Crusoe. Except he wasn't marooned, he was hidden and hurt.

It's two am. I'm tired from not having much sleep the night before, and now all the tension just whooshes out of me. I sit on the armchair next to the bed, and take his hand. Before I know it, I'm being woken up by the noise of a nurse taking Ben's readings, and an orderly putting breakfast on a tray in front of him. He's still fast asleep - it's seven o'clock. I use the bathroom and wash my face, try and get myself together. When I come out, Ben's alone. I take his hand and call his name. To my surprise he opens an eye.

"Ben? Wake up, it's Ray. You're safe now."

He works his mouth but he's got no spit. The OJ has a straw in it so I help him sit up, then hold the juice up to his mouth. He takes a swallow, and I go to remove it but his fingers move under my hand. "More?"

He nods, so I let him drink. He finishes the glass, his eyes never leaving my face. "Ray? Are you real?"

I put my hand on his forehead. "Yeah, sure am. How are you feeling?"

"He said ... you were dead." His voice is soft and husky

What the hell? "No, I'm not. And you're not. You're alive, and you're safe."

He begins to cry quietly, which nearly sets me going. What did that bastard fuck do to him? I lean over and kiss his face and stroke the long greasy hair. "Come on, Ben. Everything's OK." He sobs and nothing I can say can console him. I hear him saying 'dead' and 'Ray' amongst the sounds of his weeping. I hold him close until he settles.

"How do you feel, Ben?"

"Tired. Legs hurt - cramps. Bit sick. Dizzy," he tells me in a snuffly voice.

"You want me to get the doctor?"

"No. It gets better."

"That's good, Ben. Are you hungry?"

He nods against my chest. I let him sit back, and uncover the breakfast. Eggs. "Can you manage?" He nods again, but his fingers are clumsy. I cut things up for him, then give him back the fork. He won't let go of my hand while he eats but he packs food into his mouth like he's afraid it will be taken away from him. "Hey, slow down, you'll make yourself sick."

He suddenly drops the fork and lowers his eyes. "Sorry."

I pick up the fork and put it between his fingers. "No, you don't have to be sorry, Ben. I'm just worried about you. Here, have some toast."

He looks at me warily, but takes the toast from my hand and eats it, this time more slowly. He finishes everything on the plate. "Still hungry?" I ask, as he looks for anything he might have missed.

"Yes." He sounds ashamed.

"I could get something from the canteen, in fact I should get some breakfast...." His hands tightens over mine and if he weren't so weak, he'd be hurting me. "Ben, I won't be long..."

"No," he whispers. "No. Don't leave me." He's shaking. Jesus.

"OK. Whatever you want. " I sit down again. His eyes stare at me, but as I watch, they begin to droop. I help him lie down and he curls onto his side, facing me, still holding my hand for dear life as he falls asleep. I could sneak out now, but he's been betrayed enough. I said I would stay and I will.

This time it's Maggie who wakes me up, shaking my shoulder. "Wha'?"

"Ray, wake up."

"Time?" My eyes are too blurry to check my watch.

"Eleven o'clock. You didn't call."

Dammit. "Shit. Sorry, Maggie. He's fine, had breakfast. I woulda called but he doesn't want me to leave the room."

"I can take over for you."

I shake my head. "Wait till he wakes up. Why don't you see if he will, for you?"

I've got a crick on my shoulder from sleeping the chair, and I'm starving. I'll have to send out for food if I can't persuade Ben to let me go anytime soon. Maggie calls Ben's name and shakes him gently. His eyes open and dart around looking for me. When he sees I'm still here, he gives me a little smile and only then does he turn to his sister.

"Hey, Ben." She bends over and kisses him. He wants to sit, so she props him up.

"Maggie ... missed you."

"Missed you, big brother." Her eyes are bright. "What's this I hear about you not letting poor Ray go?"

He stops smiling, and his mouth droops. Shit, he's going to cry again. "No, no, Ben," I say quickly. " It's OK. I'm fine, honest. But I wanted to get you something from the canteen. Can Maggie sit with you while I go out for a few minutes?"

He is terrified. There's no other word for it - the heart monitor goes nuts. Maggie quickly gives him a hug, and I squeeze his hand. "Okay, okay. I'm not going anywhere. Shhh. Maggie - can you...?"

"Sure. Something for you and Ben, what would you like?"

He stares at her. Too much, too soon. "Just get cookies, chocolate, anything for him, and coffee and sandwiches for me. We'll be fine," I tell her quietly.

She gives Ben a last pat and scoots. I sit down again. "Ben - do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

He heaves a sigh, and his heart rate slows a little. "He told me... you were dead. That Dief was dead."

"Well, I'm not dead, Dief's great - he's the one who found you. Were you... were you in that room the whole time?"

He nods. "How long?" he asks.

"Three and a half months."

"Too long," he says in amazement.

"Sure was, buddy. Way too long. And he shot you full of stuff?"

He looks at his arm. The tracklines are stark against fish belly white skin. "Every meal. Sometimes more. And in my sleep. Unless I offended him, then he wouldn't let me."

"Wouldn't let you what, Ben?"

"Wouldn't let me inject it. He'd let me withdraw, get sick." His eyes close and his face twists. That fuck, that sickening evil fuck.

"How many times did he do that, Ben?"

"Six, seven times, maybe? Might be more. I was sick a lot."

We are interrupted by a nurse who has some pills to give him. I want to know what they all are, but she says I have to ask the doctor, so I tell her to get the doctor, no one is putting more shit inside him until we know what he's taking. We only have to wait five minutes before the woman doctor I spoke to last night comes back. She's pleased to see Ben is awake. "Now, Mr. Kowalski, could you step out while I examine Mr. Fraser and then..."

Ben's saying "No, no, no," and his eyes are scared again.

"Doc, he won't let me out of his sight. Do you have to do this now?"

She looks at him and then at me and sighs. "No, I guess not. You had a question about the medication?"  I nod.  "Well, we started him on clonidine last night - otherwise he'd be pretty sick by now. There's a patch on your thigh, Mr. Fraser - can you feel it?"

He reaches down under the sheets and then nods. "We're also giving you Valium, paracetemol, multivitamins and iron supplements. And we can give you something for nausea or diarrhea if it becomes a problem - are they?" He shakes his head.

No wonder he can't stay awake. "How long does he have to take these for?"

"Well, only the clonidine is important to control the withdrawal and he has to come off that slowly. Fortunately, we don't appear to be dealing with other substances the heroin may have been cut with. The rest of the medication, we can stop any time. Except for the vitamins and iron - he should take those until he's normal weight."

"Can I go home?" he asks, and then cringes slightly as if he expects to be punished for asking.

"Not just yet, Mr. Fraser. We need to leave the drip in for a couple of days, and I'd like to keep you here for a week.''

"I want to go home," he says stubbornly.

The doctor looks at me. "As soon as you can, we'll let you."

"Don't worry, Ben. I want you back too," I reassure him.

"See? Nothing to get worked up about.  Mr. Kowalski - do you want to stay in here with him?"

"Yeah - can I?"

"I can't see why not, since it's a private room. I'll arrange a cot. Now, Mr. Fraser - I want you to rest, and to eat and to take things easy. There's no reason you can't get out of bed, but you make sure that you have Mr. Kowalski there or a nurse before you do. You're pretty weak, the clonidine will make you dizzy and I don't want you to fall and hit your head." She smiles at me.

"Thanks, doc."

"I think it would be best if you try not to get him excited. The drugs he's on will make him sleepy anyway, which is a good thing, but not too many visitors, all right?"

"Sure thing. His sister's just getting me some food - she can run interference."

"Right then, I'll leave you to it. Don't worry, Mr. Fraser. You'll be fine. But you need to take those." She points at the pills the nurse left and watches as Ben swallows them, then she leaves us alone.

"There you go, Ben - a week, tops."

"I want to go _home,_ Ray." He's begging me and for two cents I'd pull that drip out, scoop him up and run out with him. But his skin is like parchment and until that's fixed, I can't look after him. "I tell you what. You stay until they don't need the drip, you eat and sleep and all the rest, and then you can come out. OK?"

He nods, and smiles. "OK. Thank you, Ray."

"It's nothing. The place isn't the same without you."

"I feel ... strange."

"Not surprised with all this stuff. But it's all supposed to help, so what say we let them do what they have to do to help you get out. Yeah? OK then. God, I wish Maggie would hurry, I'm starving."

"Me too."

I laugh at that. "No shit - I thought you were gonna chew my arm off this morning. They should be bringing you lunch soon, and Maggie will .... see, here she is."

Maggie smiles to see her brother awake and waiting for her. Her arms are full of junk food. "What did you do, wipe them out?" I ask.

"Some of this is for me, Ray. There's your sandwich, I'll get coffee in a minute. Ben, would you like some ginger cookies?"

He nods like a kid and she opens the pack and spreads them on the tray in front of him. He starts stuffing his face and then stops when he sees us looking. "Sorry."

Maggie hands him a cookie. "Go ahead,  Ben. Do you want a soda or a juice? Let me get it." She goes out again.

"How often did he feed you?"

"Don't know. Once a day, maybe. Not much. A bread roll, soup. Sometimes a sandwich, or a piece of fruit. That's all."

Fucking hell. No wonder he's hungry. The packet of cookies disappears and that seems to have satisfied him, although he's eyeing the chocolate bars. I tear open my sandwich and scarf it. Maggie brings in coffee for me, juice for him and soda for herself and we make a picnic right there. I tell her what the doc said. "How long can you stay down for?"

"Only until Friday," she says regretfully. "Is that enough?"

"It'll have to be. Someone wants to go home before then, dont'cha Ben? Where's Dief?"

"Still at Lieutenant Welsh's - he suggested that until Ben came home, you and I would have enough to worry about."

Ben's listening intently to us but his eyes are closing again, and Maggie has to grab the juice cup before he drops it. We help him lie down and she tucks the covers under his chin, then strokes his face. "Poor Ben."

"You don't know the half of it."

I tell her the little I know about his captivity. "Son of a bitch," she swears, a first for her.

"Has Don said anything?"

"I don't know. Welsh said he would drop by and get a statement from Ben this afternoon. Ray, Ben's like a child - what do you suppose Don did to him?"

"You mean apart from chain him and drug him and starve him? I don't know. Ben hasn't said anything about violence, but I know Don was fucking with his head, telling I was dead, and that Dief was."

"Trying to make him dependent. Like his ex wife said," she said quietly. "Making him addicted, making him hungry, cut off. It's vile."

"Ben's strong, Maggie. He'll get through this."

"Not on his own, he won't. Maybe not even with just you. You have to make sure you know when to ask for help."

"I will. But the first thing is to get him home. When I think about that room, I want to puke."

She pulls a face. "DOn obviously planned this for some time. That journal - the junkie's ...."

"Must have been his. Watching Ben. Watching us. Jesus, if they don't lock him up and throw away the key, I'm gonna shove him in that cell, chain him up and make him rot."

"I can't argue you with that, Ray." That's the nice thing about Maggie - she's not _too_ nice. Not like Ben - she can hate real good when she has to.

We sit for an hour talking quietly while Ben snoozes. He wakes up for lunch but is definitely more woozy, a little nauseous, and doesn't eat much, although he drinks more juice. He's asleep again in ten minutes.

"I thought he'd be a mess from withdrawal," Maggie says.

"The clonidine is supposed to help. Just as well - Ben's been through it enough times already."

Welsh arrives at two, and Maggie makes that her cue to leave. "I'll come back tonight with some clothes for you and supper - the canteen food here is horrible."

"Look, bring some clothes for Ben, sweats or something. He's been kept naked for months and I want him to have a choice."

"Good idea. Good-bye, Lieutenant."

Welsh is pulling a face at what he just heard. "He looks like crap, Ray. He's been awake, I take it?"

"Yeah - it ain't pretty, boss."

I fill him in and the big guy is disgusted at the story. "You picked up Don?" I ask him.

"He's being held in Detroit - Peter Morrow's gone over to interview him."

"So what does he have to say for himself?"

"Nothing. He's refusing to talk. Won't call a lawyer, won't answer questions. We're still searching his house."

"I still can't believe it. Three and a half months, and all the time he's holding my hand because I think Ben is dead."

"I know how you feel, Kowalski. I'm still trying to fit it into my head. So far we've turned up the heroin stash - it's stuff that went missing from a bust nearly a year ago. Pretty high grade."

"That's what the doc said."

"Well, that's a small mercy for Fraser anyway. We're looking for journals, anything to give us a clue about why he did it."

"He must have killed Hightower."

"Yeah, and planted all the stuff. It was a smooth operation, that's for sure. If it weren't for you guys, we'd have never found him. He could have been ... Hello, Fraser, how are you feeling"

Ben's eyes are open. He looks muzzy, confused. "Lieutenant?" He tries to get up and falls back, obviously dizzy.

"Stay there, Corporal. I can talk to you just as well when you're flat as when you're not. Ray here's told me what you told him."

"Detective Arnulfson?" Ben's face closes off when he says the name.

"He's under arrest. He can't hurt you any more, I promise you that. I should think it's likely he'll never see the outside of a cell again."

Ben winces and turns his head away. "Good one, boss," I mutter and Welsh realizes what he's said. "Come on, Fraser, the lieutenant needs to get a statement from you before you fall asleep again." I shake him gently and he rolls back to face us. "I know it's hard. But you're safe and I'm here."

He holds my hand. "Don't leave."

"I won't. Lieutenant?" Welsh pulls out a tape recorder. Strictly speaking, it should be Peter Morrow doing this, but Ben knows Welsh and he doesn't know Morrow, who joined the 2-7 while he was missing. And anyway, Welsh wants to do this right - for Ben, and for IA , who'll be jumping Bogart all over this case in no time.

Ben takes his time, sipping water constantly because the drugs and his dehydration are making his mouth and throat dry. Welsh tells him to just go slowly right from the beginning.

"He called me at the consulate to say Ray was still in court, but that you had asked him to give me a lift and pick up Diefenbaker, which we did. But instead of driving me to our apartment, he said..." Ben's face screws up as he tries to remember, " he had a friend who needed help and he thought I might be able to. I agreed and he drove to the wharves. He opened the car door and Diefenbaker leapt out, but then Don pulled out a gun and shot him, then he sprayed Mace into my eyes. He was able to inject me with something while I was distracted."

Distracted, crap. Mace can blind, and it hurts like fuck, I know - some asshole used it on me a couple of years ago. We get training to handle it but you don't expect a friend to use it on you. I see Ben rubbing his eyes at the memory - no, wait, something more. "Ben, are you OK?"

"Uh, cramps ..."

"I'll get ...."

"No! No more drugs. Please?"

I hold his hand. "OK. No more drugs. Just take your time." He closes his eyes and we wait while the spasms pass. Welsh goes and fetches coffee for himself and for me, and some soda for Ben, but he's gone long enough that I know he's being discreet. Ben's more calm by the time he returns and takes the soda gratefully. I slide Ben a chocolate bar, since he had so little lunch, and eat one myself to keep him company. Welsh turns the tape back on.

"Uh, anyway, I woke up in a dark room - totally dark. My clothes had been removed and I was tethered. No one came near me for a long time."

"How long?"

"Days ... maybe a week."

"You had no food or water for a week?" Welsh looks stunned.

"No food - he did leave me a small bottle of water, just the one, after a while - a couple of days I think. I didn't see him them. I was very weak when he first came into the cell. He drew blood from me and injected me with something - heroin I guess - which made me fall asleep. After that he would bring me food but inject me first. If I resisted, he would take the food away and inject me in my sleep. Then he made me do the injecting ... Ray, I didn't want to, I tried not to but I was hungry ..." God. He's crying. Welsh turns the tape off again and steps out. I pull Ben into my arms. In the whole time I've known him, I'd never seen Ben cry once. And now he's doing it every five fucking minutes, and in front of Welsh of all people. That bastard... I'll kill him, I will seriously take my service weapon and put a bullet through his miserable brain.

I'm still holding Ben when Welsh comes back in. I shake my head and he knows he's beaten. "Ray, I've got enough for now. Fraser didn't see anyone but Don, you say, and he was nowhere else. That's all we need. I'll talk to you both when he's better."

He turns to go but stands at the door. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Just look after Dief. I'm going to bring Ben home as soon as I can. But thanks."

He looks at the wreck in my arms and I see pity in his eyes. I'm glad Ben has his face buried in my shirt and can't see it.

The stress of Welsh's visit triggers the start of fresh withdrawal symptoms for Ben, but he won't let the doctor give him anything, and apart from the clonidine, he's refusing the other medication now. Not that I blame him, but it makes it harder for him, and for me, since he's in pain, and jittery, and nauseous. The ravenous appetite of the morning has vanished and he even threw up. The doctor said they could put something in his IV to help that and he threatened to tear it out if they tried. He's gone from passive child to violent toddler. The only thing that helps him is me being near. He just about had hysterics when I had to leave him to take a leak but I really had no choice about that.

Maggie comes back and is shocked by the deterioration in her brother. "Ben, why aren't you helping Ray by taking the drugs?"

"Maggie, don't say that," I protest, even though it's only what I've been thinking.

Ben looks hurt. "I just want to be able to think, Maggie. He ... he ... kept me cloudy. I couldn't think."

"I understand, but if you can't keep food down, you can't come home. Won't you just take something for the nausea?"

"I'll be all right tomorrow. I know. Don't be angry at me."

He turns those baby blues on her. She melts and kisses him. "I'm not mad at you, Ben. I'm worried. Have you had supper?" I point to the tray of cooling food. "Yuck. I've got something better than that. Ta da!"

I could smell it anyway but it's still a welcome surprise - pizza. Ben's eyes grow huge. I'm not absolutely sure he should be eating it, but hell, the hospital food looks and tastes like someone already ate it once, and the pizza is a lot more appetizing. Maggie perches on Ben's bed and we rip into the food. He actually smiles once or twice, and keeps the stuff down, and a can of soda. "I brought something else too - are you all finished?" she asks.

We nod and she opens the other bag she's been hiding. Ice cream - now that is genius. Ben adores ice cream - well, so do I but Maggie couldn't have picked anything better. The doctor pops in on her way off shift and finds us happily spooning Baskin Robbins' finest pralines and cream into our mouths. "Hey, if I knew there was going to be a party, I'd have come sooner."

"Sorry, doc - you want? Oops," I apologize as I realize my cup is empty. Ben holds his up - all gone.

Maggie laughs. "You missed out, doctor."

"Never mind. Just glad to see my patient and his friends looking well. Mr. Fraser ..."

"Ben."

"Ben. If you change your mind about the meds, the nurses can give you them anytime."

"No. No more."

"Okay. You might find sleeping difficult tonight, but tomorrow will be easier. You're doing well."

She leaves. "You see, Ben? You'll be out any day now," Maggie says to him.

"I want to leave tomorrow," he says with a firm set to his jaw I don't recall seeing before - not on someone over the age of five.

"Ben, you can't ..."

"I can - Ray, if I can drink, and I have the drip tonight, I'll be hydrated enough. And I want to go home. I want to see Dief and sleep in my own bed and eat real food."

Maggie looks at me, and I shrug. "He's got a point. And there's nothing they can do here we can't do better for him at the apartment."

"Do you think they'll listen to you?" She makes a discreet movement with her finger to remind me that a week ago I was in this same hospital as a psychiatric patient after my little wig out over Ben's supposed death.

"Maybe not - but they'll listen to you, and to Welsh. And if I have to, I'll bring in Ray Vecchio and Stella and anyone else I can think of."

Ben's listening to us carefully. "I just want to go home," he say finally.

Before Maggie goes home for the evening, we need to get Ben to the bathroom and I really need a shower. I can manage Ben on my own and I think he'd die before he let Maggie help him. Clever girl, she remembered his toothbrush and toothpaste, and he cleans his teeth three times before he's happy. Nearly four months between brushings - his dentist is going to have a fit. He looks sadly at the shower. "Do you want one, Ben?"

"How?"

"We can get the drip unhooked and we can shower together - I need one, and someone has to help you anyway. Would you like to?"

"I want to shave." I look in the toiletry bag and sure enough, Mountie efficiency strikes again. Razor, shower gel, shampoo - deodorant. I set him on the toilet seat and yell to Maggie to fetch a nurse, who comes and unhooks Ben. She looks at me a bit strangely when I say I'm going to take a shower with him but that's the least of my worries. Maggie hands me Ben's clean clothes, and mine, and says she'll be outside if I need help. Which I hope I don't - not only do I not want her seeing her brother in the buff, I don't want her to see _me_ either.

Ben waits patiently for me to run the water hot, even though I can see he's in pain. The heat will help, and I know he must be looking forward to this. So am I. I strip him of the dorky hospital robe and very carefully don't pass out when I see his body. Christ. I thought he was thin in the cell, but I couldn't see him that clearly and things were all a bit rushed. But now, under bright fluorescent lights .... "I think Doctor Ray is prescribing lots more pizza for you, buddy," I joke.

I strip off as he watches. "Getting an eyeful, Ben?"

"Have you been ill, Ray?"

"Uh - I got sick a little while ago, but I'm fine now." I can tell him I went nuts some other time.

I help him under the water. I squirt some shower gel into my hand and rub it over him and he grins. I guess it's the nicest smell he's had in a while. "You want me to wash your hair?"

"Can you? It's disgusting." That it is, and the barber is going to be the second place we go to after the dentist. Because his hair is so filthy, I wash it twice and rinse it with the shower head. Then I carefully wash him, letting him hold onto me as support. I give myself a quick sudsing - it's good to be clean, and to wash the stink of the hospital and the cell where we found him off me.  I towel him off and he sighs. "That feels good."

"Not feeling so crampy?"

"No. I was so sick of smelling bad."

"I know what you mean. Come and sit so I can shave you." Actually, his straight razor would be better than my disposable, and I wish that Maggie had packed scissors. I have to be careful and it takes a while. But Ben is happy - I could tell by the way he kept touching the beard before that it bothered him a lot. Eventually the last bit comes off, and I throw it and the now blunt razor in the bin. "There you go - good as new."

He rubs his chin. "I dreamed about shaving sometimes. And cleaning my teeth. I wanted to cut my nails too."

"I can do that for you when you get home."

"No - you don't understand. I want to do it myself."

"Yeah. I do understand. Just don't cut your toes off at the same time."

He stays sitting while he puts his underwear on - standing is an effort and he's tired. He fingers the sweats before putting them on. "I was cold," he says simply.

Maggie's impressed. "Well, that is some improvement. Give me a hug, you handsome guy." She holds him for ages, holding him up really, but her eyes are wet by the time she lets him go. "You look like you again, Ben."

"Not quite," he says wryly.

"Getting there," I say.

"Maggie, will you come tomorrow to take me home?" he asks.

"I promise to try ..."

"Promise you will take me home, no matter what." He pins her with his eyes, and she finally nods.

"You have my word, Ben." She picks up the bag of dirty clothing. "Call me when you're ready, Ray."

The nurse hooks him up again and he settles down, clearly feeling a lot better for the shower and clean clothes of his own, and for Maggie's promise which I hope like hell she'll be able to keep. The cot was delivered earlier and it's got to be better than that chair, but I'm not ready to sleep just yet. I sit in the armchair with a newspaper, holding his hand.

The doctor was right. Sleep isn't easy. He's tired but he can't get under, and is becoming jittery again. The leg cramps are better but still there, and he keeps checking that I'm still here.  We talk for a while, but his concentration is poor, so he shuts up and closes his eyes. It doesn't work for him. Finally I put the paper down. "Ben, is there anything I can do?" Damn. Tears again.  "Does it hurt? Do you want me to rub your legs?"

"Ray, can you sleep up here with me?" His voice is very small.  I kick myself mentally. Of course - he's spent so long on his own.  I kick off my shoes, climb in on the side opposite the IV and wrap my arms around him. "Is that better?"

I can feel him trembling. "Yes. I'm sorry, Ray,"

"I'm the one who's sorry."

It isn't a restful night for either of us, but I'm glad I shared the bed. When he woke up yelling, it didn't take long to calm him down, and when he complained about cramps I could soothe him until they passed. He did go to sleep about three and was out solid until breakfast. Fortunately I am up and out before the orderly surprises us and wakes him up with his meal. Ben looks a lot better, even with the broken night. He's also pushing to go home from the second his eyes open.

"We just got to speak to the doctor, Ben.  I want you home but I want you well and home too."

"Maggie said..." He's got that set to his jaw again.

"Yeah, Maggie did, but hell, we've got a few things to settle. Like this medicine you're on - you have to come off it slow. I don't want to kill you just when I've got you home."

Oh great, now he's sulking, stabbing his food like it's his enemy.  I wonder when my Mountie is going to come back. Not fair, I know - someone put a lot of effort into shredding his mind, and I should be grateful he's even got the nuts to fight with me on this.

He's not quite as clingy as yesterday, and he lets me leave long enough to call Maggie to tell her he's ready to rock and roll. The doctor won't be in for an hour, and I can use the excuse that Maggie has my car to stop Ben walking. The IV runs out and he insists they don't replace it. He takes his clonidine only after I tell him that it makes life easier for both of us if he's not going through bad withdrawal shit. I think even he's not willing to go through that hell again. When I was in college, a friend of a friend went cold turkey over a three day weekend, and I got baby-sitter duty. It was a horrible experience, and the idea of Ben puking and shitting and shaking and screaming in the dark on his own, waiting, begging for Don to jam a needle full of crap into his arm to stop the pain ... well, all I can say is that they better not let me in the same room with him real soon.  When I think about it, Ben being in a minor snit is nothing compared to what he's been through.

Maggie comes in just before the doctor does, and Ben is getting out of bed and making me put his shoes on when she arrives. The doctor can see what is happening, and is not a happy person.

"Mr. Fraser, I told you, that IV needed to be in for two days, not one."

Ben gives her 'the look' as I am starting to call it in my head, and waits for one of us to explain. "Doc, he thinks he's well enough, and Maggie and me can take care of him, I promise."

"I see. And you're proposing to look after a sick, undernourished, physically debilitated friend when you're just a week out of the hospital yourself, are you?"

Uh oh.  "Ray?" Ben asks. Shit.

"Forget it, Ben. Doc, Maggie's completely fit, and she's here for the rest of the week. And I'm fine - look at me. All he needs is to eat, and rest. You said so. He doesn't want any more drugs, and he can take the clonidine at home."

"Someone has to be with him all the time, you understand? He's too weak to be allowed to walk around. And you really should be being counseled about your experience, Mr. Fraser."

"He can do all that as an out-patient. Look - do you think I'd do anything to hurt him?"

That's the thing that finally sways her. She can see how much we care about Ben, and Maggie's calm and efficient, and more than enough to make up for me being a psycho. Finally she agrees. We have to wait for some more for some detailed care and feeding instructions, and a prescription for Valium, which the doctor is certain we'll need for him at some point.  She wants to talk to me privately before we go, and I follow her outside.

"Mr. Kowalski - Mr. Fraser's addiction is the least of his problems, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. But how long will that last?"

"He's over the very worst of it - in fact, he was over the worst before you found him, as it appears from what he's told you that his last injection was 48 hours before then. But he will be somewhat anxious and fearful at times for at least a week, although what he's taking will reduce that quite a bit. Keep the stress to a minimum. No excitement. Total withdrawal can take six months, but the main reason addicts return to the drug is their lifestyle - that isn't an issue here. But what is an issue is the psychological pressure he's under - he's been tortured for months. Made totally dependent on his kidnapper - it's nothing short of brainwashing.  It will take long time before he's back to anything like the man he was before - and there will be permanent changes. You can see how passive he is - he needs to redevelop his sense of self, his free will ... his personality. He's obviously a strong person, and he's resisted remarkably well. But please don't try and deal with this on your own. If he won't see a counselor, you need someone else - someone he respects, who can help you."

"I get it, doc. Can I go now?"

"Just a minute. Look ... Ray ... five weeks ago you were brought in here, psychotic and in a very bad way indeed. Now I know why, and I know getting him back is wonderful - but you aren't Superman - not by any means. If he is to make it, you have to look after yourself. Make sure you have your support network around you."

I almost laugh in her face. My 'support network' used to be my lover and my partner. Yeah, right. "Look - I got my boss and my parents, and Maggie. We'll deal with it."

"All right. But don't hesitate to ask for medical assistance if you need it."

Over my dead body - or rather, Ben's, I think, but I nod. I want out of here. She lets me go.

Ben's patient now that he's got what he wants, and is sitting quietly waiting for me to come back. At last, with me signing about a million forms, we're allowed to wheel him out. Given he's so weak, Maggie brings the car to him rather than have us go to it. There's an excited someone to meet him. Maggie opens the back car door and Dief launches himself at Ben who's still in the wheelchair. I really don't know who's happier - or who has the biggest grin. And Ben's crying again, but happy tears. Kind of makes me misty too, watching him cry into the wolf's fur, running his hands all over him to make sure he's in one piece. I haven't told him how close it came, and I think that's a story to save for when Ben is a whole lot stronger.

I think Ben will be more comfortable in the front passenger seat, but when I buckle up his seat belt, he plucks at it - it bothers him because it's touching his neck. Maggie swaps places and he's happy in the back with his arms around Dief. He stares out the window as we travel like he's never seen Chicago before. It's a beautiful day - it was February when he was taken and now it's  nearly summer.  I watch him in the rear view mirror and I can see the look of longing as we pass park after park. "Ben, would you like to go outside for a while? We've got plenty of time."

He looks at me watching him, and nods. There's a local park a mile from our apartment where we often walk Dief  and I drive there and pull in. Dief, of course, is out of the car the second the door opens - he knows this place like the back of his paw - but Ben hesitates. I kneel next to him. "What's wrong?"

" I ... I'm not sure...." He hides his face.

I think I understand. "It's a little scary, is that it?"

"Yes. But I want to." He puts his hand on my arm. Maggie steps up and together we help him stand up. I give him a hug, then so does Maggie. I hear him whisper "Sorry" to her.

"It's all right, Ben. You're doing well. Come and see - it's lovely here."

We walk slowly over to the open area that Dief headed to, but Ben winces at the sun. "It's too bright," he says, and hides his face. Well, it would be after being shut in a hole for so long. Maggie suggests a shady spot under the trees and we go there and sit. I lean against a tree and Ben leans on me, with Maggie holding his hand. Dief comes and snuffles around and Ben pats him.  For a few minutes, it's the most relaxed and happy any of us have been for months. Maggie loses the frown lines she's developed - I hadn't really noticed until they weren't there any more. Dief lies and looks adoringly at Ben. Me - I'm just so glad he's made it out.

It's eleven o'clock, and getting hot with it. Ben's starting to sweat - the doctor said his temperature regulation will be out of whack for a while while his body clears the heroin and he's probably feeling the heat more than we do. "Want to take this off, buddy?" I say, tugging at the sweat shirt.

Neither of us are ready for his reaction. "No!" he yells, and curls into a ball on the ground.

A guy walking his dog, a couple of kids on bicycles stop and stare at us. "Move along," I snarl at them. not wanting Ben to be a circus attraction. Maggie's stroking his hair and whispering into his ear, asking him what's wrong, but he just huddles tighter. "It's okay, Ben. You can keep the shirt - there's no problem," I tell him.

It takes fifteen minutes for him to calm down, with Maggie and me both stroking, rubbing, talking to him. Even Dief licks his face, and that's the thing that finally makes him uncurl, but he's still shaking. Time for us to go - I don't even want to think about asking him what's behind this until we're in private.  We still have to wait for him to get his act together before he can stand and walk back. He's not talking - I think he's embarrassed. There's no shortage of things for him to be freaked out about, that's for sure.

He sits in the back seat of the car, no longer paying attention to the scenery, and he won't look at me in the mirror. He also won't let Maggie him help him up the stairs at our building, and it's only because he'd fall down without it that he lets me take him around the waist and help him. Maggie opens the door, and at last he's there. "Home again, home again, Ben." He nods but wants to keep going - I think he's heading for the sofa but no, he wants to go all the way to the bedroom. I put him down and he puts his arm over his eyes. "You tired, buddy?"

"Yes, Ray. I want to sleep. You can leave me alone now."

What the hell? The guy has hardly let me out of his sight for more than three minutes at a time, and now he wants me to leave? "I thought I could maybe take a nap with you, Ben - I didn't sleep too good last night."

He looks at me then, and I can see he's close to crying again. I lie down next to him and put my arms around him. "What's wrong?" I ask him softly, and he puts his face in my shirt.

"I ... I did the wrong thing ... you have to leave."

"What wrong thing? And I don't want to leave. Are you talking about the park?" He nods. "But that was ok - you just got a little freaked, no problem."

"You can take the shirt - I don't mind."

Bull - he's shaking like a leaf. "I don't want your shirt, Ben. I thought you might be too warm, that's all. It's your shirt - you keep it. You got lots of them, remember? You can wear what you want, when you want."

"Cold," he whispers. It's hot enough to make me sweat in the bedroom. I still pull a rug out of the closet and lay it over him, and he twists himself in it, holding onto it with both fists. I stroke his face and wait for him to fall asleep, which he does in a couple of minutes. When I'm sure he's out, I go out, leaving the door open.

Maggie's standing in the living room, waiting for me to come out. "He's asleep." I flop on the sofa. "He's frightened, Maggie.  He thinks I'm going to punish him, take his clothes away, leave him. He was never like that before." She kneels in front of me and takes my hands between hers, and it's only then I realize I'm shaking.  "I don't know what to do," I whisper.

"You do, you know. You're very good with him. It must be hard for you, seeing him like that."

"I wanted him to come home so bad. I went nuts when I thought he wouldn't, and now look at him. It's like someone scooped the inside of him out and threw it away."

"No, that's not true. Ray, I don't know Ben as well as you, no one could - but I can see my brother there still. He's just sick at the moment."

She wants him to be well so bad, she doesn't really want to know what's really happened to him. "I better go back - if he wakes up and I'm not there, he'll panic."

"I'll make you both some lunch and leave it in the refrigerator. I think once the hollow leg in there wakes up, he'll want feeding."

I thank her and go into our bedroom and shut the door. Then I lie next to him and hold him, grieving for the skin and bones that is all that there seems to be of my hefty Mountie lover.  It's not a restful sleep for him - he twitches and moans, in pain by the look of it, and not having nice dreams. He comes awake with a jerk. He's only been asleep for an hour, and he's confused and scared by the change of location.   "Hey, Ben, you're okay now."

He looks sick, and he's trembling. He lies in my arms without speaking, looking at me sadly until his eyes close and he's asleep again. God, I want to cry. The only part of this that makes me feel good is that he is home, and in our bed again, but I never wanted it like this.

I stay with him another two hours with him dozing, twitching, making little sounds of pain. I work out it's his legs hurting him so I rub them which seems to help, and rub his chest and back when he wakes up until he drifts back off again. But finally I have to get him to wake up properly - he needs the meds, I need a pee, we both need food. I watch him force himself to let go of me so I can open the door and ask Maggie if she can fetch our lunch, and his lips are tight when I say I'll be back in a minute, like he's trying not to ask me to stay. Maggie sits on the bed next to him while I make a comfort stop, and he tries to smile when I come back. She leaves, happy for me to be the nursemaid here, but when she shuts the door, Ben makes a tiny noise. "You want the door open, Ben?"

"Yes ... no..."

"Open a little?"

"Yes." That helps.

He's not hungry, just picking at the food, and I can see he's nauseous. Not going to mention medication, and at least he takes the clonidine without fighting. "How do you feel?" I ask him as I put the plates on the floor.

"I don't know. I should be happy but I just feel ... empty. Tired."

"It'll take time. I'm hot - I'm gonna strip, do you mind?" He shakes his head so I strip down to my boxers and find a part of denim cutoffs to wear. "You're looking a little sweaty there too, Ben," I say casually.  He looks at the sweat shirt, touching it, and then pulls at it. I help him off with it, carefully leaving it where he can see it and reach it. "The pants too?" That's too much, and he shakes his head. "Window open or closed?"

"Open. I miss it." Well, that's right - that fucking cell had no windows at all, and he had no fresh air in all that time. I push the window wide open, put our fan on low. He sighs - he _was_ hot. I sit on the bed with my back on the headboard and he puts his head on my lap. "I'm sorry, Ray."

"Me too, Ben. It's okay." I stroke his hair, and we sit together in the breeze, me hoping it might blow a little of the memory of what he's been through away.

He doesn't do much except sleep the rest of the day but that night, he is definitely easier, and he eats little more. The withdrawal crisis is over, so it seems, and now we have to deal with the shit from his being kept a prisoner for so long. The nightmares are bad - for both of us - but at least we're together. It's a long night. I help him bathe in the morning but it's lunchtime before he thinks he can manage being up. He's definitely improved, looks less sick, more lively - more determined. He doesn't want to eat in bed and insists on sitting at the table with a proper place setting - too many meals eaten with his fingers, I guess. That must have made him crazy.  His appetite is back and he wolfs down everything Maggie puts in front of him. I realize I need to get groceries in, and plenty of snacks for when he's hungry - the doctor said little meals and often. In his case, it looks like massive meals and often.

"Do you want something else?" I ask as I take the plate.

"Ice cream?" he asks shyly.

I check the freezer - we're out.  "Sorry. I need to go to the store - Maggie, can you help me make a list?"

"Actually, Ray, perhaps Ben might like to come with us."

I'm about to tell her she must be nuts when I see him nodding. "You want to go shopping?"

"Yes."

"The doctor said no excitement."

He lifts his eyebrows. "Shopping?" He looks and sounds like the old Ben so much, I could kiss him. Aw, hell, why not, and I do. "No excitement, Ray," he murmurs and I laugh at him.

"OK - shopping it is. You want to go out like that or put some real clothes on?"

I'm trying to word things carefully so he doesn't flip and fortunately he takes it the right way. _Un_ fortunately, finding clothes that don't fall straight off him is a problem. We finally have to settle for a pair of jeans which are tight on me, and tighten the belt up real well. And then there's the shirt - it's warm enough for short sleeves but he's ashamed of the track marks. I find a light shirt that's not really casual, but it has long sleeves and that's all he cares about. Before we can put leather shoes on him instead of the sneakers he came home in, the toenails have to be dealt with. Despite what he said in the hospital, he just can't manage cutting them, so I end up with his feet in my lap on the sofa, while Maggie chats to him and takes his mind off the fact that he can't even do something so basic for himself. I've never cut anyone's toenails before, and I add a podiatrist to the list of people Ben needs to see to fix the problems being held prisoner has caused him. All I can do is get them short enough so wearing shoes doesn't hurt.

Fully dressed he looks almost normal but he's avoiding looking at himself in the mirror, we both notice, and he relies on Maggie or me to tell him looks okay. He still looks ill with the marks on his neck and the sores on his mouth - he's much too thin for his build and it shows.

Taking him shopping is like taking your five year old nephew to the store - we end up with the weirdest things in the trolley which he pushes, using it for support instead of us. Ice cream. Pickles, neither of us ever ate before, and I joke about him being pregnant.  Chocolate. Tomato paste. Pasta - lots of pasta.  No stew or soup. Chicken. Carrots but not apples. Bananas. Grapes. Breadsticks. Yogurt. Cookies - lots of cookies.  Maggie puts in the necessities but I trail along behind Ben, letting him choose. His face is intent, like making the choices is hard work. Once or twice he picks up something totally weird and looks at it, like he's trying to remember if he ever ate it before. By the time we're done, there's enough food in the trolley for six people for two weeks. He wants to pay for it himself but there's a problem - Don took his wallet as well as his uniform, and this puts him into a tail spin. Maggie has to lead him outside while I sort out the payment. I bag it all and wheel it out to the car where she's arguing with him about his goddamn library card being missing.

"Fraser - we can get you a new library card and everything else. Chill, will ya? It's the least of our problems."

He glares at me. "I need my library card. I want to read."

"Jesus Christ, Ben, will you drop it? For three months we thought you were dead and buried and you're crapping on about a fucking library card?" I throw the sacks of groceries into the boot and get behind the wheel, trying to get my temper back in check. Terrific, Kowalski. Shout at him and make him afraid again. I hear the back door open and close and I turn to him. "I'm sorry, Ben - I'm a little tired. We'll get your wallet back, and your card. It's not a problem."

"It's quite all right, Ray. I know you're busy," he says quietly, timidly.

"No. That isn't it. I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's important to you and we 'll fix it. Ben - I might get mad occasionally, but it's not okay and you don't have to let me yell. Yell back like you used to."

"But you'll leave me," he whispers.

Fuck.  Maggie's still standing outside the car to give us privacy. I get out, toss the car keys to her, and get in the back seat with Ben. "No, I won't leave you. Come here," I say, and pull him into my arms, where he stays as Maggie drives us back. Goddamn it, I gotta watch my mouth. I still don't know a hell of a lot what Don did or said to Ben, but I'm getting the idea that Ben didn't make a move that he didn't give him permission for.  And if Ben didn't do the right thing, he was abandoned, or starved, or made sick. How the hell do you beat that sort of conditioning?

You know, I don't think I can do this. Fraser was always my hero even before we became lovers - the sexiest thing about him was the fact he was so fearless. To the point of insanity, if I'm honest with you. And now the guy can't handle losing his library card? If I'm going to keep it together at all, I'm going to have to pretend this guy is someone else, not Benton Fraser RCMP, but Ben - a heroin addicted, scared child man. I know, I know - Ben my lover is there too. But all I can see is Ben the kid. Time to put those parenting skills to good use.

He insists on taking one of the bags up with him, even though he has to lean on Maggie which means she can carry less .... I don't point out he's defeating the object. None of us mention the freak out at the store, and we sit and eat ice cream together like it's completely normal to be eating dessert at three o'clock in the afternoon. Ben enjoys the ice cream, but is subdued - ashamed, I guess. He's getting a little restless again, jittery and I remember the clonidine. Before he takes it, he wants to see the medical information sheet which he reads carefully, then nods. "That explains it."

"What explains what, Ben?" I ask him.

"The dry mouth, the drowsiness, the dizziness. All side effects."

"Better than the alternative," I tell him and he pulls a face. But it's true. That drug is supposed to stop the anxiety attacks and the cravings for the heroin and a bunch of other shit - a little dizziness is a small price to pay, and since Ben takes the pill without arguing, I guess he thinks so too.

Maggie's feeling a little claustrophobic - up north, weather like this is rare and not to be wasted, she's told me more than once - and since Ben is sitting in a funk on the sofa, not watching TV and not talking, she's not sure what she should be doing. Dief gives her an excuse. "Ray, he wants to go out. Why don't I take him?"

I'm about to say yes automatically when I see Ben's eyes flicker in my direction, and I realize the mistake we're about to make. "Um, Maggie? Dief's Ben's wolf - why don't you ask him?"

Maggie's no idiot either. She comes and sits next to Ben. "Shall I walk him, Ben?"

He nods, but we can both see we're missing something. "Why don't you go with her, Ben? You probably miss walking him, huh."

Ben looks at me and then at Maggie and nods again. I can't help but worry that this is too soon, but on the other hand, he needs gentle exercise and the sooner he can walk a way without one of us holding his arm, the sooner he'll feel normal.  I act like it's no big deal though. But I do hand him two things - a spare pair of sunglasses and my mobile. "Call me if you need a lift back. No biggie."

He looks at the glasses and the phone. "Thank you, Ray," he says, and I understand he's thanking me for more than just them. I give him a kiss and shoo them out. I'm pleased he doesn't seem to mind going out without me.

I feel a little lost now - I've been thinking nothing but "Ben, Ben, Ben" for days - well, months to be honest, and now he's temporarily someone else's problem. Welsh - damn, I forgot. I need to tell him Ben's home  and to find out what's happening with the investigation. He's at home.

"Lieu? I should have told you We brought Fraser home yesterday."

"So soon? The doctor let you?"

"Didn't have much choice - he wouldn't stay. Maggie and me got it covered."

"I take it that this means you aren't coming back to work next week."

"I don't know, boss - Maggie goes back Friday, and Ben's still pretty feeble. I can take vacation time...."

"No way, Kowalski. You're on sick leave and you stay on it until he's fit enough to look after himself. I don't want a repeat of what happened a month ago."

"No, sir. Thanks. What's the status with Don Arnulfson?"

"Still not talking - he's been formally charged with kidnapping and assault, and first degree murder on the Hightower guy. We found a journal which is a virtual duplicate of the one found in Hightower's bedroom. That ties Don to his death."

"Do we have any idea why he took Fraser?"

Welsh tells me what the journal says, and that it appears that Don is a junkie too - but a well-controlled one, with access to the finest shit. If you can get reasonably good quality heroin like he could and like what he stuck in Fraser, and your lifestyle is okay, then no one will notice you're addicted. And unless you take it all the time consistently, you won't be. Don isn't the first cop I've heard of who's a user, and Stella told me once there were lawyers shooting up before going into court.  The point is, he knew exactly what and how much to give Ben to get him hooked - and his medical training meant he knew how to fuck around with his health enough to keep him sick, but alive. Bastard.

I hang up and the phone rings immediately. I realize I've been talking to Welsh for a half hour. It's Maggie.

"Is something wrong, Maggie?"

"Not exactly but I think you should come pick us up." She sounds stressed. She gives me the address and I hightail it down about a half mile to where they're sitting on a bus seat. Ben's wearing my glasses,  looking at the ground and patting Dief.

"What's happening?"

"I got tired," Ben says. Maggie's expression says it was more than that, but I play it Ben's way.

"I'm not surprised - you _do_ remember you were in the hospital yesterday? Ready to go home?"

Maggie's face says yes, but Ben's ... Ben wants to stay, I can see that. Hell. "Tell you what, does anyone want to hit the beach?"

"Beach?" Maggie asks in surprise. Dief barks, so that's one vote, and Ben definitely looks interested.

"Sure - didn't you know? If you haven't seen it, you gotta - nice day like this, it'd be a shame to miss it. All in favor?"

Maggie grins, the stress gone from her face. Ben smiles and Dief's on his way to the car. Score one for Kowalski then, I think.

I forgot Maggie hasn't seen much of Chicago - the first time she came down, she was after her husband's killer, and she took off the second she found them. She doesn't like cities and only came down this time because of me, and stayed because of Ben. She's in for a treat.  Lincoln Park is at it's finest - we can't do the whole thing, not with Ben, but we cross it and skirt around some of the ponds, and admire the flowers before hitting the beach.

We're all overdressed for it but Maggie kicks off her shoes and encourages Ben to do the same. The expression on his face as his bare feet hit the sand is beautiful. We stake out a good spot and settle down for some people watching. "This is the life, huh Ben? No ice bergs here."

"Well, no, Ray. It's too hot," he says in a touch of old Fraser. Maggie smiles over his head. He lies down with his head in my lap and promptly goes to sleep, which stops me moving for one.

"You want to tell me what happened back there?" I ask Maggie quietly as she puts a handkerchief over his face to stop him burning.

"He got a little anxious, that's all. Wanted you. He didn't get angry ... I guess I was thrown, I wasn't expecting that."

"He's better than he was yesterday - it's only been three days, not even that. I think he's improving."

"I know," she sighs. "I'm not used to people being weak or sick - I've never had to care for anyone before."

"Me neither."

"You must be a natural. This was a good idea, Ray."  She stands up. "Dief still needs more exercise - why don't I track down some cold drinks?"

She goes, leaving me trapped - but in a good way. Lying on the beach is not something Ben or me have done much of - never seemed to have time. That's a promise I make to myself - when he gets better, we'll damn well make time. One of us could go at any point and duty and honor and work don't have to run our lives.

Maggie's gone for over an hour and half and the families are leaving the beach, being replaced by office workers and lovers meeting after work. Ben is still fast asleep but with the sun being less hot, I can take the cloth away and look at him. So different - it's a shock every time I see him and I know why he's avoiding mirrors. I have to tell myself it's just a matter of good food, rest and time and he'll be the same as always. The scars are mostly going to be on the inside.

He stirs and sits up. "Where's Maggie?"

"AWOL. You know her and walking."

"I do." He leans up against me. "Did she tell you? That I panicked?"

"She said you got a little anxious. It's the drugs - it's not a problem."

"It is if I ever want to work again."

"Ben, you were just in the hospital yesterday. You don't need to worry about going back to work. You've got bigger problems at the moment."

He pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them. I decide to hell with it and put my legs either side of him and wrap my arms around him - someone wants to bitch about the PDA, they can.

"I wish I knew why. I asked him once and he wouldn't answer me. The next time, he punished me."

"Do you want to know?  I mean like, right now?"

"Yes. Was it just bad luck or did I do something to him to bring this on myself?"

"They found a journal in his house. You sure you want to hear this?"

"Go ahead - I'll stop you if I can't handle it."

"Give me your hand." He frees one hand and I hold it - I will be able to tell from his grip whether he's freaking.

"You remember I told you that Don and his wife split up six months before you were snatched? Maggie talked to her. Don had this thing about people being dependent on him - you know, instead of letting someone do it for themselves, he'd offer and do it for them. Which is nice, unless you can't ever do it for yourself. His wife left him for another man, and he ... flipped. From his journals Welsh said that he fixed on you because you're so **in-** dependent - like you were a challenge. And taking you also meant I had to depend on him more, so it was like a one-two punch. He'd been planning to snatch you almost from when his wife left. He built that cell, he followed you, made notes about you - he was like a hunter."

"He want me to be totally dependent on him, for everything," he says slowly, trying to get his head around it. "Stockholm syndrome."

"Looks like. He figured eventually he could let you out and you'd still need him because of the drugs and the brainwashing."

"Except he made a mistake. He told me you were dead, and that gave me something to hang onto, something else I was thinking about other than him. He was angry with me because I wouldn't talk to him. He took my clothes away again, he'd started to cut my food and he was making me withdraw again - or he'd drug me to make me cheerful."

"You mean it wasn't always as bad as when we found you?" His hand tightens on mine. "Do you want to stop?"

"No.  I'm all right. It was relative - he gave me some more food, underwear. It was still bad. But he would come down and talk to me, which I wanted more than food in some ways. He wanted me to think of him as a friend."

He stops talking and his hand is tighter than ever. "Ben - what are you not saying? Did he ...?" Oh god, rape him? Molest him? We didn't think of that.

"He nearly succeeded, Ray. I let you down - betrayed you."

"Crap." He twists to look at me. "Fraser - you got the same training as me about Stockholm syndrome, didn't you? The guy made you totally dependent - he _wanted_ you to betray me, he _made_ you see him as a friend. You had to or he'd have kept starving you and drugging you and the rest. You know that - hell, you should be explaining this to me."

He looks away out over the lake and is quiet for a long time. "Yes, I do know it. But part of me doesn't."

"Take your time, Ben.  You know I love you, don't you?"

"Do you?" He turns again and he's being a little playful.

"Nah. I'm just holding onto you in a public park because I'm collecting Mounties for charity. Here comes my second one."

Maggie's got cans of soda in a sack, and a smile on her face. "I'm sorry I took so long - it's beautiful here. There's three zoos, and  a planetarium and a ..."

"Maggie? I grew up here, remember? I'm dying of thirst, what did you get?"

Drinks are shared out -  Ben is thirsty too. I'd forgotten about his dehydration but he's looking better every minute for the food and the rest and the exercise.  In fact we almost look like any other group of friends, sitting, talking, enjoying the sun. Maybe if we pretend to be normal, eventually we'll become normal.

Dief starts making whining noises. "What's up with him?" I ask Ben.

"He's hungry. So am I." I check my watch - it's after seven.  I was going to suggest eating in the park, but I'm tired, Ben's dozy and I don't think any of us have the patience.

"OK kids - home, Chinese food and bed. Any objections?"

None. Ben's definitely flagging by the time we walk back to the car - it's been a long and busy day after  all -  but he's also the most talkative he's been since he got out of hospital. Maggie's relaxed, seeing her brother more like himself.  I'm feeling pleased with myself for making everyone happy.

Everyone's so tired that we're all in our beds by nine - unheard of back when things were normal. I curl up around Ben - I managed to persuade him that he would be warm enough just in boxers and T-shirt, otherwise he'd be stroking out on me from the heat if he slept in sweats again. "Feels good to be home?"

"Feels like heaven. _You_ feel like heaven, Ray," and he kisses me - the first time he's taken the lead.

"Missed you so much, Ben," I whisper. I rub his chest gently until he's asleep. I'm not far behind him.

 

* * *

It's a better night than the previous one, I suppose because we're both so tired. He wakes a couple  of times, I have a nightmare or three - small potatoes considering.  Definitely feel more cheerful and with it when I wake up and I sneak to the bathroom before Ben's awake. He's looking at me when I get back. "Hi, sleepyhead - feeling better?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. Are you going to work?"

"No - I'm looking after you, remember?"

He doesn't like that.  "But Maggie can do that - you don't have to take time off."

"It's not a problem, Ben. Are you getting up or do you want breakfast in bed?"

"Ray - you should go to work." Damn. Stubborn Mounties.

"I told you - it's not a problem. I was off anyway."

"Why?" He's swinging his legs out of bed and I help him up, handing him a bath robe.

"I'm on leave. OK?"

I want to leave the bedroom but he tugs my arm. "Ray - you're not telling me everything. The doctor said you were in the hospital a week ago. Were you injured? You said you'd been sick."

"I just had bad flu."

"Ray," he says in a tone of voice I haven't heard for months.

"Look - I went a little nuts a few weeks ago. Too much stress. It's over - I was due to go back to work next week, but Welsh's told me to stay and look after you because work and that is too much to handle."

"You had a breakdown - because of me?" he says quietly and if I was using my brains, I'd realize that he doesn't need to know this right now.

"Yeah, because of you," I say, a little more harshly than I mean to. "We thought you were dead - Don planted a journal in a dead junkie's apartment which said he'd killed and buried you. Kinda upsets a guy. "

He's appalled. "How long have you been off work?"

"Nearly two months. Enough already. Ben, you need to eat breakfast. Come on."

He's quiet and eats all the food I put out for him, and I'm just grateful everything's so easy. Maggie joins us out of the shower and she looks better too. She's taken Dief out for a pee, but he needs another walk. Since Ben looks so much better, there are things we can do and some we need to do.  He agrees with me about the dentist, but wants to get his hair cut first. Maggie suggests we get some more long, lightweight shirts and some jeans which actually fit. All this adds up to 'mall'. "Do you think you can handle the pace, Ben? I mean, it'll be busy."

"I'm fine, Ray," he says calmly. "Why don't we see when I can visit the dentist, and then we can go." I blink. I've heard of rapid recoveries, but for a guy who was having trouble stringing two words together yesterday, he sure has his shit together now.

We fix an appointment for  tomorrow, and he reminds me that he has to contact the consulate. I suggest that we should visit his doctor first so he knows how long he'll be off work, and he agrees. We can do that tomorrow too.

I'm amazed every second at how much better he is. He's walking more easily - actually gets down the stairs with just my hand lightly on his arm, more for my benefit than his.  He's talking to us easily and there's not a trace of nervousness or anxiety. _I'm_ more nervous than he is, waiting for him to crack up.  He says he's thirsty so we stop for a milkshake before we begin hunting down clothes and a hairdresser. Maggie's right about the clothes - between the hair, and his bad skin condition and the loose clothes, he looks like a junkie and I am damned if I am going to let Don get away with turning the proud man I knew into someone most people would spit on.

There's a hairdresser opposite a likely men's clothing store so I ask Maggie to take Ben to get his hair cut while I check out the clothes - I've got a good idea about the sizes and I don't think Ben has the stamina for a long trying-on session.  But I'm only in the shop five minutes when Maggie comes back, her face like thunder, and Ben looking like he'd like to disappear into a hole in the ground. "What the hell?"

"Those _people,_ " she spits out. "First they looked at him like he was retarded and then the silly woman tied a cape around his neck so tight it would have hurt anyone. And when I tried to explain, she told me I had to wait outside. Ben walked out  - who can blame him?"

"Her manner was somewhat aggressive for someone in a grooming profession," Ben said.

"Okay - strike that. Is there another one here?"

Maggie calms down enough to answer. "On the next level - Smithson's."

"Ben - you up for this?"

"Of course - we can't judge all of the hairdressers by one example."

This is so weird - yesterday, what had just happened would have turned Ben into a shaking ball. He's clenching his lips a little tight, but that could just be the stress of being on his feet for so long. "Well, then, I'll see you. If there's a problem, just wait outside. I won't be long."

Ben could be back at work in a week if he keeps going as well as this, I think. I know Maggie can handle it, but I don't dawdle over the clothes. The store's got some cotton long sleeved T-shirts which are perfect for casual wear, and some cheap jeans the next size down from what I wear. With any luck, Ben will be too big for them soon, but I buy two pairs. I got up to the next level, find the salon. Maggie looks a whole lot happier. "I explained to the woman about Ben's neck and it wasn't a problem. And they do pedicures and manicures, so I booked one."

"Didn't he want you to sit with him?"

"No. That's good, don't you think?"

Ben's got his eyes shut, but he's not wigging out. I suggest to Maggie she takes Dief off exploring, and that I'll wait for Ben. I watch him the whole time - he's asked for a short cut, not quite a buzz cut, and the difference is amazing. It takes years off him, and he looks a lot more like a Mountie and a lot less like a mental patient. The stylist finishes and Ben opens his eyes and nods, and then sees me looking at him. He cocks his head, and I give him a thumbs up, which makes him smile a little. I go over to him. "Hey, good cut. Maggie says they're gonna to do your paws."

"I thought it wise, since it may be some time before I can manage myself. Ray, I'm fine - you must have things you can do. This will take a half hour or more, they tell me."

How far can I believe him on this? I don't want him to think I don't trust him. I tell him to call me on the mobile when he's done. I also have a quiet word with the receptionist, explain Ben's been ill and might get a little antsy and to call me the second there's a problem - to call me _first_ if there's a problem. And then I walk out, cool as a cucumber, shaking like a leaf inside.

There are no shops on this floor so I go down one and pretend like I give a damn about the sales. Ben is rattling me worse than he did in the hospital. _Nobody_ can get better that quick, can they? Is he acting? Can someone act that well and still be sick? I don't know. I can do the physical stuff - fetch carry, wipe, wash, if I have to. I can cuddle and talk to him. But the truth is, I know fuck all about what he's going through. Maybe that doctor's right and I need to get help. It's just ... well, the idea of Ben going to a shrink, or more doctors, kinda turns my stomach. He's _my_ responsibility - I _should_ be able to do this on my own. And maybe I'm just worrying too damn much - the guy was pretty strong before, went through bad things and got through them, so maybe he's just using that strength and pulling himself together.

I'm staring at some store window - I really have no idea at what - when my mobile goes off. I'm pounding up the escalator as I answer, knowing it must be about Ben. "Yeah?" I yell.

"Kowalski? What's going on?"

I screech to a halt at the top of the escalator so suddenly that I earn some dirty looks. " Uh, boss - nothin'. What's up?"

"You, by the sound of things. How's Fraser?"

"He's good - getting his hair cut. Did you want him?"

"I've prepared a statement for him to sign - can you bring him in, or do you want me to drop it over?"

"I dunno, lieu. I'll call you and let you know."

I hang up. Since I'm on the right level anyway, I go back to the salon. Maggie's back. "He's just finishing up," she tells me.

"Any problems?"

"Not a one. He's a lot better today."

Maggie wants to believe her brother is well. So do I, but not to the point of kidding myself. But the evidence walking toward me sure looks convincing. "Look at you, buddy. Good enough to eat." He smiles. I pay for the cut and manicure, thinking the improvement it made would be cheap at twice the price. I notice Ben is looking a little pale - well, paler. "Are you ok? You want to go home?"

"I'm fine, Ray. Lunch would be good."

Maggie found a health food restaurant on her exploration. I keep watching Ben - he's still looking a little stressed. "Ray, please - I'll tell you if I need assistance."

"OK - but we're going back after."

Ben looks at Maggie, who won't look at me. "Actually, I was thinking perhaps I wouldn't go back just at the moment."

"Fraser - you need to take your pill, and the doctor said not to overdo things."

"I brought my medication with me." He shows me the packet.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"I'm sorry - I didn't realize you needed to know."

He's right - but he's also freaking me. "So what's the plan? Where do you want us to go?"

Maggie coughs. "Uh, Ben and I were going to go to the park again, let you have some free time to yourself. "

"Well, maybe I don't want free time to myself. You two cook this up on your own?"

"No, Ray - Ben just wants some time alone with me."

I'm being a prick. "Look - I'm sorry. Ben, Welsh rang - your statement's ready to sign. I just need to know if you're going in or if you want him to bring it to the apartment."

"I'd be grateful if you would let him know we'll drop in this afternoon."

"You don't want me to come in with you?"

"Maggie and Dief will be with me."

OK - this is totally weird. But Ben and Maggie are looking at me as if to say 'what's the problem?' and I can't think of anything to say. "OK - I got laundry to do. Do you want to change into a more comfortable shirt before you go to the park?"

"That would be welcome."

We finish lunch and Ben takes his pills. He's still pale, so maybe it's just him. The alarm bells in my head are dinging like mad, and when we go to the men's room for him to change, I call him on it. "Ben - you don't have to pretend like everything's normal. I know it's not."

He looks at me in the mirror, not direct. "Ray - I know you're worried. But I have to get my life back sometime. I can't be dependent on you - any more than I could be on him. Please try to understand."

That bites. "You think I'm like him?" - really angry now.

Now he looks at me. "No. But I'm not a child. I'm fully aware of what's happened to me - what he'd tried to do. I want to make decisions for myself. Maggie will ensure I come to no harm. You're on sick leave - that means you're not well yourself. I thought it would be good for us to have time to ourselves this afternoon."

You bastard!  I want to scream. I just had three and a half months of time to myself and you're tired of me already? He sees my expression - knows I'm ready to hit the roof. He touches my face. "I do love you, Ray."

Damn him. All my anger just goes, like that.  "Yeah, I know. Maggie's waiting for us."

I act like everything's cool.  "You want to take the car?"

"We were planning to take taxis - I'm not happy driving in Chicago," Maggie says.

"Ben - Dief?" He's forgotten. "I could just run you around - I don't have to go with you ..."

"No Ray, that's not necessary. Why don't you take Diefenbaker back with you? He's had enough exercise for the moment, and he can have a walk later."

Neither the wolf or me are that overjoyed, but the two of them are determined.  I give Maggie my mobile (and decide it's about time Ben had one of his own, whatever he says about them) and tell her to call if they need help. I check they've got enough cash, see them into a cab, and then it's just me and Dief.  "You think that was a smart move?" I ask him.

He whines. I'm all over that.

I call Welsh from the apartment, do my laundry - and then what? I'm just waiting for the phone to ring, that's what. I make Ben's doctor appointment, tidy up, make some soup for supper and generally go quietly out of my mind. I'm not going to call, I'm not going to call. Six o'clock comes and I call.

"Maggie? Where the hell are you?"

"On the beach."

"You been there all afternoon? "

"No, we saw Lieutenant Welsh, and then Ben wanted to call into the consulate to speak to his inspector. Then we went to the zoo in the park here...."

"You took Ben somewhere with caged animals - Maggie, what the hell were you thinking?" Now I'm shouting.

"Ray, it's okay. We had a good time, and now we're eating ice cream on the beach. We'll be home by seven, I promise."

They better be. I'm relieved and I'm angry - all this time I've been going nuts, and they're eating ice cream on the beach.  Maybe Ben's right - maybe I'm not the full load of bricks yet.

Dief needs to go out so I take him for a walk, and take longer than I planned. Got a lot to think about. Four months ago I had a strong, independent lover and a partner I liked and trusted. Three months ago, my lover was missing, and likely to be dead. Now my partner is in jail, and my lover is no longer strong, but he is independent - sort of.  Would we ever get back to normal? I haven't even begun to deal with what Don's betrayal is going to mean - IA going over our files, a new partner probably. Worrying about trusting them, them wondering probably if I'm going to crack up - being outed. Oh yeah, that'll be all over the precinct by now - no way is Ben's special relationship with me a secret. I look at my watch  - fuck, it's nearly eight. I call home and get Maggie. "Ray - we were worried."

What a joke. "I'm sorry - I lost track of time. Have you eaten?"

"Yes - I'm sorry, Ben needed to take his medication ...."

"It's not a problem. I'll be back in half an hour."

Some nursemaid I make. I practically run back but all is calm and happy when I get in. "Did you enjoy your walk?" Ben asks.

"S'okay. You?"

"It was enjoyable, yes."

"No problems?"

"Nothing of note." Maggie looks totally relaxed - both caught a little sun by the look of them.

"You saw Welsh?"

"Yes. We had a long chat in fact." Oh? What about, I want to ask. But Ben's looking tired.

"You like you need to hit the sack."

"I was waiting for you - I need a bath."

Fuck - something he _can't_ ask his sister to help him with. I scarf a bowl of soup in five minutes and then I run a bath for us. This is something I've been looking forward to, and a sneaky part of me is glad Ben can't finagle his way out of this. The way he sighs when he get into the hot water tells me he's not as good as he's been claiming.

"Tired?"

"Cramps and muscle soreness, yes. I've been much worse, I assure you."

I slide in behind him and soap up his hair. "Big day - getting your life back."

"Yes. I couldn't have done it without knowing you were there, Ray." He takes my hand from his head and puts it over his heart. "Never doubt I need you in here, that's where it counts."

Mushy. Me too - my eyes are wet, but he can't see. "Uh, Maggie said you went to see Greig?"

"Yes - I felt I had to. I'm on sick leave indefinitely - he's not expecting me back for a couple of months actually, although I hope to return sooner. But I have to receive psychiatric clearance. He's offered, and I've accepted RCMP counseling."

"Ben - you don't think you could talk to me about this stuff before you make decisions like this?" I don't even know why I'm mad.

"Ray - it's _my_ job. I  don't interfere with your decisions about your work or your leave."

"Only you're the main thing interfering with it." I feel him tense up. "That was a shitty thing to say - I'm  sorry."

"No - you're correct. I spoke to Lieutenant Welsh about you today. I told him that I wasn't prepared to be the reason you're off work - if you're fit yourself to return, then you should do so."

"My choice, Fraser." I'm glad we've got the door shut, and I hope like hell his sister hasn't got bat ears like him.

"Not exactly. It's my choice whether I wish to be baby-sat, and I do not," he says coolly.

I can't believe he's saying this to me. "Are you finished? You don't need me to wash your dick or anything?"

I climb out and towel off. I'd walk out but I'd only have to come back in to help him out of the bath and that would be ridiculous. He puts out a hand and I pull him up, maybe a little roughly, but he doesn't complain. He towels himself dry, and I don't offer to help. I hand him his robe and leave. He can walk from the bathroom to the bedroom on his own, and damned if I'm going to be accused of coddling him. I go to the kitchen and look for some ice cream, and purposely ignore what he's up to. Maggie's gone to bed already - she's an up with the sun gal - so it's just me and him. He makes me jump by coming up behind me. "Is there enough for two?" he asks quietly.

"Dunno - you can have it, I'm not hungry."

I dump the can on the counter and go sit on the sofa, put the TV on. He brings a bowl over with two spoons and sits beside me. "You're angry with me."

"Gee - you work that out on your own, Fraser?"

"Why are you angry?"

Of all the stupid ... "You accuse me of smothering you, you go to my boss behind my back, you make decisions affecting both of us without telling me. Take your pick, Ben."

I refuse to look at him - I know if I do, I'll lose it, and I want to stay mad. Mad, I can handle. It feels better than worry and panic and grief and agony and I've had enough of all those things for a life time. He puts the bowl of ice cream on the table in front of us and takes my hands in his. "Ray, please. You're not smothering me. You're showing how much you love and care for me. But I can't let you ruin your life for me, and your career is important. You've spent two months away from work on account of me - that's more than enough.  There's no reason you can't go back next week."

"There fucking is and its name is Benton Fraser! Say I go back to work next week, and you get a dizzy spell, fall, knock yourself out - maybe die. Or you fall down the stairs. Or you get sick from overdoing it. What the hell do you think that's going to do to my career then, huh? Do you have the slightest idea at all what I went through when we thought you were dead? You want me to go through that again?"

Fuck it. I pull my hands away from his and cover my face - I don't want him to see I'm this close to crying. He moves closer and I can feel his arms going around me, and then he's rocking me, like I'm the one who's sick. "Ray, look at me?" he says gently. I open my eyes - and his are wet too. "I know how you must have felt - I know how I felt when Don told me you were dead. I didn't believe him, not completely, but part of me did, and I felt like I'd died in a way. I've never felt so empty in my life - not even when my father was killed. But I'm not in any danger- if I have to, I'll stop taking the clonidine ..."

"Over my dead, bleeding body you will - I'm not having you go through withdrawal like some damn street junkie!"

"Okay, okay, I won't stop. But the symptoms are less severe, and my strength is better today in just twenty four hours - you can see that. By next week, I'll be able to manage all day on my own."

"And if you can't?" I ask, all clogged up.

I wipe the tears off his face with my finger and he does the same to me. "Then I'll go back with Maggie and stay with Eric and his wife until I can."

I go completely still. "You'd rather go and stay with Eric than let me, your partner and your best friend take care of you?"

He pulls me in for a hug but I fight him. He's not smooching his way out of this. "It's not a question of 'rather' - I'd _rather_ not be addicted to heroin or have lost four months of my life. I'd _rather_ not be facing six months just getting this drug out of my system, or have to go to see a psychiatrist who may or may not say I'll never be fit to work again. I'd _rather_ be strong enough to carry you to bed and make love to you until we both see stars. But with things how they really are, I want at least one of us to be well and strong. That has to be you, and if I need to go away for a few weeks to let you get back to work, I will. I don't want to go, Ray - I missed you more than I can ever tell you. But if I have to, I will."

"Ben, don't - please. I just got you back and now you want to leave? You're wanting to do things without me when all I think about is being with you."

He wants to hug me again, and this time I let him. "Is that what you saw me doing this afternoon? I'm so sorry, Ray. I really did just want to talk to Maggie and visit the consulate - you looked tired and I thought ... well, maybe I didn't think. I won't do that again."

I nuzzle his neck. "Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow  - you got to see the doctor, and so do I if you're shoving me back to work. He might think I'm still too crazy to hold a gun."

"I doubt that very much, Ray. You seem completely sane to me. "

"You should been here when Welsh and ... and Don ... had to hold me down. I hear it was pretty scary." I try to make it sound like a joke, but I guess it's not very funny - not really.

"I"m sorry," he whispers.

"Me too." I stand up, pull him up carefully. "I want to make love to you - but I'm afraid to hurt you."

"You won't - it might be sensible if we weren't too ambitious, but I would very much like to have you make love to me, Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

"Well, then, Benton Fraser, why don't you get your skinny ass in the bedroom?"

He picks up the bowl of melting ice cream. "Oh dear - it's ruined."

"No, it's not - I got plans for that."

 

* * *

The sun streaming in through the bedroom window wakes me up - Ben wanted me to leave the blinds open to let the street light in. He's not exactly afraid of the dark, but he's more comfortable with some light where he sleeps. He's curled up facing me with a smile on his sleeping face and I would kiss him awake if I didn't think he needed his rest after yesterday - and last night.  The drugs he's taking, and his general condition meant not much is happening in the old dick department yet, but he told me he would only eat ice cream again if he could lick it off me. I said I wouldn't hold him to that. I tried it and it sure beats using a cone. I always did like licking Ben though.

In the dark, he feels the same as he always did. But even now, in the light, he looks better. The mouth sores are healing fast, those on his neck the same. He looks tidier and he's less shaky - now he has to just put the weight on and deal with any cravings or depression. I'm glad we talked last night - he admitted finally that he'd been scared shitless in the beauty salon and the poor manicurist had to prise his hands off the arm of the chair before she could start. I asked him why he'd gone to the zoo - he said it was Maggie's idea - she'd never been to one before, and that he only got through it by concentrating on her reactions and not on the cages. So yesterday had been tough, my instincts were on the button and he promised not to pretend to me any more. And I promised to back off as much as I could. I told him I was scared too - he said he didn't blame me.

Maggie's wary of me when she comes out. She must have heard us arguing. "It's okay, Maggie. We're good."

She blushes. "I didn't mean to pry, Ray."

"It's fine. You want coffee?"

She nods. "You know he was talking about going back up north with me - I couldn't let him. I couldn't do for him half of what you do."

"You don't have to. But no more going behind my back, ok? I'm paranoid enough as it is."

She gets it. "Don - you must feel bad about that."

"To tell you the truth, I don't know what I feel. Having a partner is like being married - but right now I want to kill someone I thought was my closest friend next to Ben."

"I know what you mean," the man himself says, sliding onto a stool. "When I found out who'd murdered my father, I think that was almost worse than losing Dad in the first place." Maggie puts her arm around him at that.

"It's a fucked up situation, that's all I know." Ben hands me over the bowl we had in the bedroom and now it's my turn to blush. Maggie looks at our faces and suddenly finds her coffee very interesting.   
 

Our doctor has Ben's notes which were faxed over from the hospital, but he still needs to go over everything. I sit in since Ben wants me to. I've known Doc Goldberg for years so he's cool with that, but he's damn shocked by Ben's condition and what's happened to him. Ben takes his shirt off for the doctor but I can see it bothers him, and so can Doc Goldberg, because he gives him a gown to put on. He gives Ben a thorough going over, and is pleased by how much better he is than the hospital notes said he was a few days ago. "You still need to take things easy, Benton. You're aware it will be some time before your body entirely adjusts to the cessation of the heroin?"

Ben nods. "Yes, six months, I know. But when can I go back to work?"

"Physically - I'd say in a month, if you continue to put on weight, and no other problems come up. If you were to get flu or some other ailment at this point, I'd be concerned, so you need to be sensible. But the counseling is important and I imagine that will take a bit longer. I'd plan on two, possibly three months. Considering what you've been through, I think that's rapid."

I can tell Ben is not happy - by the time he gets back in the saddle six or seven months will have gone by. "What about me, doc?" I ask.

"Ah, well. I'd say you could go back to work anytime you wanted, provided your police psychiatrist clears you. But Benton here needs someone, so I'm happy to sign you off for that - say until Monday, and longer if you or he need it."

"Ben?" I want him to be okay about this.  Maggie's only here until tomorrow, and she's uncomfortable with the nursing thing anyway.

"That's fine with me."

"Well, that's all good. You're a lucky man, Benton - lucky to have survived, lucky to have Ray as a friend."

"I know, Doctor." He gives me a smile and I feel warm all through.

"Do you really think you'll be able to manage on your own in three days, Ben?" I ask him as we walk to the car. The dentist is next on the list.

"I don't see why not.  Provided we keep up the walking, and I eat properly, I should be up to being in the apartment on my own, possibly even going out - _if,_ " seeing I'm ready to yell, "you're happy. I don't want you to have to worry about me."

"Fraser - you've been a worry to me since the day I met you."

"Sorry, Ray." He gives me a grin.

The dentist is a problem. I explain as best I can what's happened to Ben, without embarrassing him too much, but there's no getting away from the fact that being pinned down in the dentist's chair with things going into his mouth, and with towels chained around his neck, makes him damn nervous. The dentist is a nice lady and lets me hold his hand, but finally she gives up - Ben is just too freaked. "Mr. Fraser - I would really suggest you take a sedative for this. Your teeth do need urgent attention, but I don't want to inflict more distress on you. Valium or something else would help - I can dispense a dose if you want. I assure you, it is routine."

We go outside so I can talk to him. "Ben - the doc in the hospital said you might need this occasionally - it's not gonna make you addicted, and it doesn't mean you're giving up."

"I should be able to do this without help, Ray. I am a Mountie - this is a trivial procedure." His jaw is set tight again.

"I know - but what happened to you _isn't_ trivial.  Look - buddy, if it was me freaking out, because of being held like you, what would you say to me?"

He stares and then suddenly smiles. "I'd say you should take the pill, Ray."

We wait for the thing to work, and then with me clutching Ben's hand, a little background music, and the dentist chatting away about her last visit to Canada, we get through it. The teeth need cleaning, he's got some gum disease, but amazingly there are no cavities. He's given advice about how to look after his mouth until he's back to full strength and then he's free.

"We're knocking down the pins, Ben." He's puzzled. "You know - boom, down goes the dentist, there goes the hair, boom, boom, boom."

"A series of milestones, you mean."

"Yeah. One day at a time."

Maggie's voted for the park again in the afternoon - she's got a real thing for it, and Ben's more than happy to be outdoors. He's now able to walk several hundred yards now without support or resting, and his color is a lot better with the food and the sun. I can almost see him blooming minute by minute. The clonidine doesn't completely knock all the problems out, but he's managing better than I could have hoped so soon. Maggie's relieved and says she can go back to Inuvik with a clear conscience now that Ben is so well.

She insists we don't hang around at the airport in the morning, and that just drop her off. She kisses us both and makes me promise to keep her up to date. Then she swings off through the doors and she's off.  Ben's got this peculiar expression on his face. "Is something bothering you?" I ask him.

"I'm okay. Could we possibly go up to the forest preserve? I'd like to be away from people for a while."

It used to be almost a normal thing for us - Ben loved going out there. But he doesn't know how much time I'd spent there recently, or why. But it's what he wants - from the look on his face, he needs it, and I tell myself I can just suck it up.  The place is looking good, that's for sure - leafy and green. Dief's loves it here and Ben is in heaven. "I missed trees, Ray. I missed this," kneeling down to rub his hands on the grass. "And the smell of soil." He digs into the loam and holds some to his nose. But then I remember  all the nightmares I had, giving life to that description in Hightower's 'journal' - describing how he'd made Ben dig his grave, and then shot. I'd dreamed of Ben kneeling, asking Hightower not to kill him. I'd spent weekend after to weekend digging around, looking - hoping not to find anything and screaming with frustration when I didn't. What Ben is doing now ... my legs give out, and I hyperventilate. I hear him yell but I'm too busy thinking I'm gonna die of a heart attack. I bend over and throw up, still can't catch my breath. He's holding me, talking to me, but all I can really hear is the thumping of my heart and all I see is those pictures in my head of him lying bleeding in a grave ...

"That's it, Ray. Shallow breaths, keep your head down. You're safe, everything's fine ..." he keeps talking, and one hand is rubbing my back, the other is holding my forehead. Tears are running down my face. He wipes them gently with his handkerchief, dabs at my mouth. "Calm down, that's it." When he thinks I'm not so hysterical, he helps me sit up and lean against him. He doesn't talk - he just holds me.

"I gotta get out of here," I mutter and stand up. We walk back near the parking lot and sit in the picnic area.  Ben fetches the bottle of water from the car and gives it to me, then sits and looks at me, waiting for me to tell him.

"Don ... he made up this journal like I said. He described how you supposedly got knocked out by this junkie, who took you out here, made you dig a grave, and shot you.  I was been looking for your body until I went too nuts to keep doing it."

"Oh my God, Ray - why didn't you say something?"

He takes my hand which is still shaking. "You wanted to come out here - I figured since I knew the journal was fake, and you're alive, it should be okay. Guess I was wrong." I put my head on my hands and rest on the table for a bit. It was so fucking real - I could _smell_ the turned earth of the grave, I could _feel_ the greasy blood on my fingers as I found his corpse. Ben's hand is on my back again.

"It's over, Ray. I'm back."

"I know. But you know you're safe and you still get nightmares. Same thing."

"Perhaps we should go home."

"Give me a minute, will you?" I just need to get my shit together. Fuck. I'm supposed to go back to work in two days' time. I think I better ask Welsh for desk duty for a while - it's either that, or just stay on sick leave.

Ben wraps himself around me, not caring who's looking and nibbles my ear, kisses my neck until he's distracted me away from my nightmare and my panic. "You're a menace, Fraser," I say.

"Thank you kindly, Ray. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"It'll just freak you out."

"No - I don't think so.  I'll tell you to stop if I have to."

"There's not much to tell. I'd come up here every spare minute I had and just look. Um - Don 'helped', the bastard. I just wore out, I guess - too long worrying, too long trying to find ... to find the body," and his arms tightens around me as I shiver. "Welsh sent me home on sick leave - don't remember that. I started yelling at Maggie on the phone and she got worried and called him. Him and Don came over and found me raving - told me later I didn't look like I'd eaten or slept in a week. I thought I was done with all that, but now... Jeez, Ben, you're handling it better than me, and I had the easy bit."

He kisses me again. "I'm not so sure. Don was manipulating you as much as me, and I think you're handling matters very well. Can I make a confession?"

"What?"

"I'm glad Maggie's gone. It's not that I don't love her dearly, but she was putting an enormous pressure on me - expectations, me being her big brother, being a Mountie. Even being Benton Fraser.  But you're different, Ray. I never have to pretend around you - you let me be me, faults, illness, everything."

"I'm just so glad you came back, Ben," I say, muffled against his ear.

"And I am glad - more than glad - to be back with you. But Ray, I don't think there's any shame in having been overwhelmed by what happened."

"What if I lose it on the job - get a flashback or a panic attack in the middle of a bust?"

He's quiet a long time as he thinks. I relax in his arms - ironic, him comforting me. He seems to like it though. "I don't know. You have to see the department psychologist before you can go back on active duty, don't you?" I nod. "Then ask them. Ray - you're a good cop and basically a stable person. My guess is that this is something you can overcome."

"So can you."

"I hope so. With your help. I'm not thinking that far ahead - I'm just happy to be free."

"Did you ever think you would get out?" Now it's my turn to hold him, because he's trembling. "It's okay, Ben - don't ..."

He speaks in a quiet voice. "I thought I would, in the beginning. As time went on, I ... stopped. I thought about you mostly, when I could think at all, but I stopped hoping I would get out, because every day was a new disappointment. I just concentrated on surviving. There were times - many times - when I didn't think I would even do that."

"You knew Don wouldn't kill you, surely."

"I wasn't sure of anything. There were days when I could hardly remember why I was there, that I'd had a life outside that cell. It's going to take time to reconnect with life."

"You're doing fine."

"Perhaps. Sometimes I don't think so. Yes, I know. Give it time. It's just ... I've wasted so much time. I've lost _months,_ months I'll never get back. My health - I'll never be quite the same. I confess there are times I feel quite vengeful, Ray."

This is the most bitter I've heard Ben be - it's not as bitter as I would be. "You're angry at Don?"

He gives a grim little laugh. "Angry is too mild a word."

"I think I know what you mean."  I stand up. "I'm okay now - where do you want to go?"

"Is there somewhere outdoors we could go that won't awake unpleasant memories for you?"

I had an idea. "Ever been to Lake Geneva? It's great - we could go up for the weekend, there's a million places to stay."

"That's sounds delightful."

And so it is. We find a little Victorian B+B that doesn't mind Dief - or us being a couple - and we spend the weekend walking, talking and trying to find a little peace. Ben's happiest when there are no walls around him - he likes to be by the water or in the woods. He's not exactly claustrophobic, but he never was that fond of the city and being hemmed in. He tolerated it for me, for his job. I wonder if going back to the Consulate is going to be good for him, but that's a long way off.  At night we don't make love as such, but cuddle and kiss and stroke each other. Ben said he missed being touched - Don hugged him a few times but he felt dirty when Don laid a hand on him for any reason. Can't exactly blame him.

We drive back on Sunday afternoon, both of us a hell of a lot better than when we left town. Ben is really improved. He put a lot of work into extending his fitness, pushing himself just past the point when he got tired, resting, then pushing again.  He's even talking about starting swimming regularly but that has to wait, and I don't know how he'll feel about baring himself or showing his trackmarks in public. The dizziness is controllable - he just has to watch standing up too quickly and he doesn't need me to help him any more that way. The stamina is the main problem but for now, I feel a lot happier about leaving him on his own. I bought him that mobile and we've discussed how much and when and what to do if there's a problem when I'm at work. He's got a list a mile long of things he wants to sort out - top of the list is his library card, but there's his driver's license, ID, other things to replace. I never let him be declared dead but I froze his accounts while he was missing so no one could take his money, and we'd know if anyone tried. He's got to unfreeze them now. He's also due to start counseling, he has to go back to the doctor - it pisses him off how much his life's been disrupted. I tell him it's better than the alternative.

Welsh has fixed me an appointment first thing with the department shrink and I play it very calm, very cool. I do not mention the freak out in the forest, and concentrate on how well Ben is doing and how independent he is already. She seems convinced.

Welsh is not and puts me on desk duty for a week. "Kowalski, quit arguing with me. For one, it's standard after you've been on sick leave for so long. For two - you haven't got a partner. For three - you're worrying about Fraser and there is no way I am sticking you on the streets when your mind isn't completely on the job. Give it a week -  if things work out, then you can go back on active duty next week."

"I'm still not gonna have a partner then, _sir._ " I shouldn't be giving him grief like this - he's right,  I know it, he knows it.

"As a matter of fact, you will. Pete Morrow will be partnering you."

"What about Vic?"

"Transferring. You should be pleased, Ray - this way you don't have to explain to someone else about Fraser."

"Figured that'd be all over the place now, boss."

"No, it's not, and the fact it's not is something you can thank Detective Morrow for. I asked him to be discreet and he has been. So far as anyone else is concerned, you wigged out because your _best friend_ was missing. Nothing more."

It's a pleasant surprise and a lot more than I was expecting. "Thanks, boss."

"You can thank me by getting the files Eliza's pulled and start going over them. And Ray - you are _not_ involved in Don's case. At all. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. What's the latest on that?"

"The bastard still isn't talking - he's been arraigned and bail was refused, thank God. We're looking for Hightower's car. The DA thinks we're solid on the kidnapping, because of Fraser's statement, but she wants more on the murder charge before we take it to the grand jury."

"He'll go down on the kidnapping, for sure."

"Nothing is sure in this game, you know that, Kowalski. Besides, a murder charge has the option for the death penalty - I thought you'd want that."

I haven't even thought about it, and it's like a punch to the gut to be reminded that if Don - my former partner - goes down for killing Hightower, then he could get a needle stuck in his arm with something a bit nastier than heroin in it. "Did you mention that to Fraser when you talked to him?"

"No, it didn't come up. Why?"

"Leave that to me, boss, if you see him. Fraser's got some funny ideas about punishment."

"Do it your way, Kowalski. But now I'd like you to go and start earning your keep."

I hate paperwork, but I like being back at work. I call Ben a couple of times, he's doing fine. We have a two-hour check in arranged, either me calling him or him calling me, and he'll let me know if he turns his phone off for any reason.

Peter Morrow swings in around two. I don't know the guy well, he seems okay - but so did Don. "Hey, Ray, glad to see you back. How's Fraser?"

"He's doing ok, thanks. Welsh says you're partnering me in a week's time."

"Yeah. How do you feel about that?"

He's no dummy and he knows I must be feeling like in Bizzaro World at the moment. "It's gonna be weird. I mean - cops lose their partners all the time, and cops have crooked partners, but this is a first that I heard of. I don't know how it's gonna play."

"I hear you, Ray, and to tell the truth, I feel bad as hell about it. I told Welsh you should work alone for a while, but he said you need a partner. I'll cut you as much slack as I can, and I ain't thinking you and me are gonna be best buddies. I'll do right by you though, and I know I can count on you. Every cop here knows that."

That's kind of touching - actually, a lot touching - and unexpected. "I appreciate you saying it, Pete. And I appreciate what you did, or what you didn't do, about Fraser."

"Hey - I figure it's your life, your business. And Don did enough damage to you without that. Catch you later."

I have a feeling that Pete might just work out. What are the chance of two partners turning out to be psychos anyway?

It's gonna be regular 8.30 to 5.00 hours this week and even though I bitched at Welsh, he's right and it helps.   Ben's cooking when I get home, and for a minute, it feels just like it was before he was kidnapped. He looks tired. "Hi, Ben. Been overdoing it?"

"Perhaps a little." He lets me kiss him, and take him into a hug. Damn, he _is_ tired. I tell him to sit - what he's making can wait on the stove.

"Tried to clear your list in one day, huh?"

"No," he says defensively. "But there are an inordinate number of queues one has to stand in to process these matters. One would think you people were the ones who liked to imitate Britain, not Canada."

Oooh, snippy Fraser. Even though he doesn't need my help any more, I suggest we take a bath together. I love to wash his hair and soap him up, and he loves to let me. "That feels good, Ray. Sorry for being short-tempered."

"You don't know the meaning of the word, Benton Fraser. " I soap up his balls and dick and he sighs, wriggling a little.  "Careful - ice cream is for _after_ the meal." He laughs.

"How was your day?"

"Oh, you know, paper work."

He turns in my arms and looks at me. "You're not back on active duty?"

"Don't go getting all schoolmarmish on me, Fraser. Welsh says he wants to be sure we're coping ok, and next week I get partnered with Pete Morrow. I'm fine with it."

He turns around. "And are you coping?"

"Today went okay, the system works. I got no complaints. You?"

"None at all. I miss you of course, but I must confess having the mobile phone gives me more freedom. I don't have to worry that you'll worry if I go out, or if I get into difficulties."

"Then that's good. Just relax."

We have a quiet evening, just holding hands on the sofa and watching TV. He's in a touchy feely mood, which suits me and by the time the news comes on, we're making out like teenagers. He's got his hand in my pants, torturing me. "What are you planning on doing, Ben?"

"I fancy some of your ice cream, Ray," and he unzips me and goes for it. The way he's sitting I can't reach him without throwing him off, and I do not want to interrupt what he's doing, so I just lie back and enjoy the ride. Ben could give head for Canada, and that's something that hasn't changed at all. "Oh, _God,_ " I groan as I come, and damn if he isn't licking me like an ice cream cone still.

"Come here," I tell him and drag him up to me, kissing him and reaching for him. "Hey! Ben - you come already?"

He's embarrassed ."No - I'm afraid nothing much is happening at all."

"Not yet," I tell him. I always did like a challenge but the best he gets is half hard even after half an hour of fondling and licking and sucking. He loves what I'm doing but his dick is just not getting with the program. "OK, who is it, Ben? Who are you sneaking off to when I'm at work?" I tease, to make him feel better.

He knows I'm joking. "I'm sorry. It all takes ..."

"Time," we say together and groan together as well.

"I think we better take this poor, tired, underperforming guy to bed, what do you say?" I say.

"I think that's an excellent idea."

You'd think I'd be pissed that my lover can't get it up for me - no way. I'm just too damn happy to have him in my bed at all to give a damn about the hydraulics. Sex is cool, sex with Ben is the best - but I'd trade a hundred years of fucking for the promise that I'll wake up for the rest of my life next to him, with his long lashes hiding those blue eyes of him, the warm Ben smell of his breath an inch from my face. Being able to reach out and he's _there_ and always will be. It didn't take him being missing for three and a half months for me to know all this. It just took all that time to prove it.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written nearly twenty years ago under another pseudonym. It hasn't been revised (or reread by me) since then.
> 
> I am posting this and my other stories from this period purely so people can read them if they choose. I won't be reading comments, and don't care if you leave kudos. I'm dumping them and running.
> 
> Having said that, I worked hard on them, and I hope they still entertain someone out there.


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